


Checking In

by JʼLi (kibigo)



Series: Two Adult Women [1]
Category: Super Smash Brothers
Genre: (no pun intended), Beginnings, F/F, Fluff, Gen, Lesbian, Oneshot, Pre-Relationship, more to come - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-25 00:56:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17714993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kibigo/pseuds/J%CA%BCLi
Summary: Samus just wants somebody — anybody — on the roster she can relate to.Bayonetta… Well, itʼs not too clear what Bayonetta wants, exactly.





	Checking In

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Two Adult Women Fuck Up a Place](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17276936) by [DeadHooligan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadHooligan/pseuds/DeadHooligan). 



> There are two principal reasons why I write oneshots :
> 
>   1. Experimentation in form and structure of the English Language.
>   2. That gay, gay shit.
> 

> 
> Here, you get to see both happening at the same time. Enjoy⁓
> 
> * * *
> 
> Also inspired by all those « no adults present » Smash fics and my need to remind people that, yes, yes, there are.

A picture of tranquility : the sun, shining ; the birds, chirping ; the breeze, softly kissing Samusʼs cheek and tousling her hair, the collar of her jacket, the wide brim of her hat, the hem around her calves. The beige exterior of the front office to the Super Smash Bros. campus, a comfortable drab.

Samus pulled open the door. She stepped inside.

It was her fifth — official — appearance on this stage, and, frankly, the place was barely recognizable from her first stay, an order of magnitude larger ; even the receptionist was different, a golden pooch whose head barely poked above the counter. Samus supposed she was barely recognizable too : a good decade older.

She approached the desk warily. ― …Hello, Samus said. ― Samus Aran, checking in.

― Ah, yes ! the pupper replied. She enthusiastically checked a box on her clipboard, fished in her desk, procured a key. This she handed over : ― Youʼll be in Room 04 ; the dormitory is just down the street — follow the signs ! Ask if you have any questions !

― Actually, Samus leaned in close. ― Do you have a roster I could look over ? Maybe one with pictures ? Iʼd love to know who else is here…

― Of course ! The shih tzu clapped her hands. ― Already eager to measure up your foes, are you ? Itʼs always nice to see such an enthusiastic fighter !

She had it completely wrong — Samus couldnʼt care less about the other fighters until they were together in the ring — but she didnʼt bother correcting.

― Mhm. Samus took the stapled pages and looked them over. ― Youʼre a fighter ? she asked, noticing the dogʼs portrait there — Isabelle.

― Oh, yes ! Isabelle clapped again. ― Number 68 !

― And yet they have you working the front desk ? Samus raised her eyebrow.

Dog needed to learn how to say No to additional responsibilities.

But the list : Well, it was depressingly predictable. Teenagers, animals, robots, celestial beïngs, skeezy old men — anything and everything but what Samus was looking for, all she really wanted : one other person she could relate to, one other normal, adult woman. One tournament where, when the nights got late, the kids roamed the town, the men bonded over drinks and cigars, she wouldnʼt be left all alone.

Jet black hair and spectacles on the final page. A mature face ; a pose that absolutely reeked of the Male Gaze.

Well, there was indeed Bayonetta.

Samus handed the clipboard back and gave her thanks. Then she turned on heel and set off for the dorm.

She had intended nothing more than to find her room, flop onto her mattress, stare at the ceiling, and — fuck, she didnʼt know, throw darts at the wall or something. Instead, she had found herself looking at something else : a number. Despite her best intentions, it had been burned into her brain, and her feet had carried her there without thought.

A six. And then a three. Definitely not her door ; not even the same end of the hall.

Fuck, just how lonely was she?

Samus knocked. On the other side, a voice responded : ― Come in⁓

Samus opened the door.

There : the glasses ; the hair ; the body which joined them ; shapely as ever ; modest for once — in a grey turtleneck sweater and — tight — black skinny jeans. Bayonetta reclining, a book open in her hands. Marguerite Duras, Le Ravissement de Lol V. Stein. Barely glancing up from the text.

― Yes? Bayonetta said.

She was no newcomer to Smash, having arrived late in the previous tournament ; she and Samus were already acquainted. Well, more or less — in all honesty, Samus had found the witchʼs overt sexuality disconcerting — not that she had a problem with sexual women, but Bayonettaʼs tastes seemed so… patriarchial. Revealing clothing, tits, ass. Cleanly shaved. Made up.

― Hey, Samus said. In a flash, she realized that she didnʼt actually have an excuse for beïng there. She settled for honesty. ― I just… I was just looking at the roster and… it looks like weʼre going to be the only women of our age at this tournament — again — and I thought : Maybe we should actually get to know each other some, this time ? Yʼknow, support each other as women, and such…

― Get to know each other ? Bayonetta smirked. ― Was there something you had in mind ?

And something in that look… fuck no. Nope. There was a reason why Samus hadnʼt tried reaching out to Bayonetta before now, and it had been a good reason, and blank walls and empty ceiling be damned, she wasnʼt so lonely as to put up with this. Her foot was out the door.

― Wait, no, please hold up.

The book discarded, Bayonetta on her feet, her voice entreating. Samus, stopped, unable to slam the door on such a plea if she tried. An impasse.

― Please donʼt be like that, Bayonetta said. Her voice was soft and Samus was surprised by its delicacy. ― Iʼm sorry, I know I donʼt always give the best of first impressions.

And here Samus had thought she was nothing but impression. Was this to say that there was actually a person in there, to get to know ?

Her thoughts sounded judgemental, even to her own ears. Samus sighed, and turned back to the room.

The room : clean ; orderly ; and not from newness ; books and artefacts on the counterspace, Bayonetta clearly having already moved in. A laundry basket in the corner, not empty, suggesting her presence for at least a day ; nevertheless, the bed in impeccable condition, the sheets fresh and tucked. A window graced with sunlight, blackout curtains backdrawn.

― I think youʼre right, Bayonetta said. ― We should get to know each other. I mean actually : What do you say we get a meal together ? Nothing fancy. It doesnʼt have to be a date if you donʼt want it to.

Samus would have liked to think that she wasnʼt so desperate a lesbian as to say Yes to any woman who thought to ask her out. She had standards — sheʼd had enough disappointing experiences with relationships to have to have standards — surely. She was a wise, discerning, and responsible individual. Samus would have liked to think that —

— but she said Yes, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> More to come ! Thanks for reading⁓
> 
> — JʼLi


End file.
